


Stars

by captainleo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainleo/pseuds/captainleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some handle the death of a loved one well whereas others, not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that is a bit out of canon: Joanna is Jim's age. Yes, I realize this doesn't make sense for the other context of the other characters, however this was based on an rp that I was involved in where we didn't take that into account. Sorry!

Jim walked numbly through the streets. 

People glanced toward him, curious. His attire wasn't particularly suited for a casual walk on the city streets, but his mind wasn't paying them any attention. It was hard enough to stay upright.

Thunder rumbled behind the grey cover overhead. Jim glanced up and silently thanked the sky. For once in the past few days, it finally matched his mood.  
He stopped in front of a large stone building, his heart sinking even lower than before. Blinking back tears, he told himself he had to at least get through today before he let himself go. He hadn't even gotten inside yet. He sighed and started climbing the stairs reluctantly. 

The inside was old but decorated lavishly. Deep reds and dark colors accented the cream walls. Closed doors lined the parlor and Jim stood limply in the center, unsure of the whole thing. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down again. His thoughts were only interrupted by a quiet voice.

"The McCoy party, sir?" Jim opened his eyes and glanced down to find the voice belonged to an elderly man. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, though a little out of date. His eyes were big and sympathetic and Jim found a strange comfort in him. He realized that's probably why he worked here.

"Yes..." he said quietly, his voice threatening to break if he spoke too loud. The man nodded sadly and gestured to a door that stood slightly ajar on the other side of the parlor. 

"Just this way, sir. My deepest condolences." Jim nodded and took a step toward the door before stopping at the sound of the man's voice. "Was she your wife?"  
Jim's heart stopped beating for a second. Tears burned and he shut his eyes tightly against them. His stomach dropped and he felt like he was going to be sick. 

"No..." he said quietly, shaking his head. "I wish..." 

Jim stood for a long while after the man had retreated to room near the front door. He couldn't get the man's voice out of his head. Jim wished with all his might that he could go back and change that. He wanted to marry her. If he had just acted sooner, maybe his answer would have been different. He sucked in a shaky breath and let it go.

"Jim..." he opened his eyes slowly, making sure no tears escaped. Spock stood in front of him, watching him carefully. Immediately he tried to straighten his stance and blink away the sadness in his eyes.

"Hey, Spock," Jim said, trying in vain to achieve a normal greeting. Spock's gaze shifted, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion.

"There is no need to strive for normality, Jim. This meeting is far outside normal circumstances."

"I'm not striving for anything, Spock. I'm fine," Jim said, his defenses rising.

"Jim, you're companion has just di-"

"Spock..." Jim warned, his voice dropping. "I'm fine." 

With a small sigh, Spock nodded. "If you insist."

"I do," Jim said, nodding once. "There a lot of people in there?" 

"More or less. Most of the bridge crew and a few other close friends and relatives, I presume. I am not acquainted with all those present." Spock took a sidelong glance at Jim. "You don't have to go in. I am sure that Doctor McCoy would understand-"

"That's out of the question, Spock. I'm going in," Jim said, the last part not as convincing as the first. He hoped Spock wouldn't notice.

"We all realize that this has been very difficult for you. I don't think you would be blamed if this was too much-"

"It's not too much," Jim snapped, cutting Spock off for the third time. He felt bad, immediately; Spock was just trying to help in the best way he knew how. Jim just wanted to get through today without having an episode. "Sorry, Spock. I...I didn't mean that..."

"I know you didn't," Spock said quietly. He watched Jim's face as he stood staring at the open door. He wanted to empathize or return Jim back to normal, but he had the sinking suspicion that he never would truly be the same man he had been.

***

Spock watched as people filtered through the small room. Hours ticked by and people came and went. He watched as they all gave their condolences to Doctor McCoy, who was keeping it together quite well, he thought, for a man who had just lost a daughter. Some cried, others shared stories and laughed, most did both.  
It was a strange ceremony to which he wasn’t accustomed. He was told earlier that there would be another ceremony the following day, much closer to what they did on Vulcan to honor the deceased. The wake, however was very new to him and he watched in fascination at the people as they came together and seemingly bonded over the passing of their friend. 

While taking in his surroundings and making mental notes of the custom, he kept a very close eye on Jim. He laughed with the crowd and hugged many people as the hours of the wake went by. He seemed to be acting normal except for the fact that when he was alone he immediately let the facade fade away and he looked like a completely different person. Only when people were preoccupied with their own feelings did he his guard down.  
Spock found it strange that not once did Jim shed a tear, nor did he take his time to view the body. He observed that most people came into the room, shared a brief moment with Leonard then moved to the open casket where they said their personal goodbyes to Joanna. Jim had not followed that same pattern. It appeared to him that Jim had actually been avoiding that side of the room entirely. 

**

The sun had set and the room was dimly lit by soft fixtures lining the wall and candles. Not many people remained then, just Chekov, Nyota, Mr. Scott, Sulu, Jim and himself. They watched in silent horror as the solid, somewhat emotionless man they had always known finally gave in to the sadness that had been building all day. Spock had watched as Leonard had knelt beside the casket and wept for his daughter. He wanted to do something, but realized that unless he could change time or bring back the dead there was nothing to be done.

He watched as the others politely turned away or hung their heads in silence. Noticing Chekov had followed Leonard’s lead, Spock reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder only to be taken by surprise when the young boy leaned into him and continued crying. He looked to Nyota for help, but she just nodded, tears welling in her eyes. Spock wrapped his arms around him and just let him cry. He had seen Jim do it earlier for a small boy whom he did not know, so he figured it was a similar situation. 

Soon, only the three of them were left: Jim, Leonard, and Spock. They sat in the back of the room in silence. 

"That was nice," Leonard said eventually, his voice tired.

"Nice?" Spock questioned. It wasn’t the word he would have used.

"Yes, Spock, nice." Spock simply nodded and let it go. Today wasn’t the day. They remained in silence, each of them staring in a different direction. Spock resolved that it was his turn to say his goodbyes. He stood silently and crossed the room feeling McCoy’s eyes on his back the whole time.

The casket was made of a sleek grey material with silver bars on either side. It was beautifully crafted. He slid the kneeler away so that he could stand right up next to the side. Joanna looked beautiful, even in death. She had her hair woven across the top of her head and the rest fell loose around her shoulder. Small white flowers were laced into the braid and lain on the waves. Her lips were painted a soft hue of pink and pulled into a small smile. They had dressed her in a lightweight dress of white and her feet, at her childhood request, were bare. Spock recalled a picture Jim had once shown him of Joanna after a summer shore leave. She looked like she had in the picture on the beach and he smiled.

She had been a good crew member, and a good friend. He remembered a time when she had insisted that he accompany her and Jim to a small carnival outside the city. He chuckled as he recalled trying different Earth foods apparently specific to this type of event and Joanna laughing at him as he made faces at each one. Then she pulled him onto amusement rides and into games. It was probably the first time he had ever experienced having “fun”. Ever since then, he embraced the human side of him. He realized that after years of writing it off because he believed it to be inferior and reckless, she had showed him that humans could be so much more than just that. 

Spock’s smile had long faded and in its place he could feel a growing urge to cry. A tear voluntarily slipped across his cheek and he bent over to place a light kiss on her forehead. 

"You lived an admirable life, Joanna McCoy. My only wish is that I can, someday, reach that level. You have taught me more than you could ever know," Spock said softly. He turned away after a moment and retreated back to his seat between Jim and Leonard. As he expected, they were both watching him with mixed expressions. The silence grew and the three sat in it allowing it to be the only conversation.

"I think it’s time I head home," Leonard said after a long while. The seat squeaked as he rose and Spock followed suit.

"I will walk with you." He didn’t plan on leaving, but he had to talk to McCoy. By the looks of it, Leonard was thinking the same thing. 

In the parlor, Leonard turned to Spock and shook his hand before pulling him closer so that their voices didn’t carry too far.

"Watch him," he instructed. Spock knew exactly what he meant. Watch him, because I can’t. 

"I always do."

"No, I mean especially tonight. I don’t know what he’s going to try and I’m worried, Spock. Really worried.”

"I share your concerns, Leonard, and I assure you, I will watch Jim," Spock said with a nod and a hand on his shoulder. "Go home, and try to get some rest."

"You’re starting to sound like a regular human, you know that, Spock?" Leonard started. "What you did in there…for her. Your human was showing." His tone was hard to read: it was a mix between gratefulness, sadness, and a feeble attempt at humor.

"You have your daughter to thank for that." Leonard smiled quickly, but let it fade before nodding sadly. He already knew. "Goodnight, Leonard."

"Goodnight, Spock. Thank you."

Spock gave an acknowledging nod before turning back into the room. He pushed the door open and found that Jim was not in the seat he left him in. With frantic silence Spock moved fully into the room and found that Jim had made it halfway to the casket and had just stopped. Slowly, he took another step, then another and Spock watched in pained sadness as his friend finally made it to the edge.

**

Jim moved on shaky legs, finally reaching the open casket. Grabbing onto the ledge, he quickly shut his eyes. He sunk forward and allowed his eyes to press into his palms. They were cold and it felt good against the burning sensation. 

Finally, he lifted his head and greeted the moment he had been dreading, lacking the grace and composure he hoped he would have. Joanna laid peacefully, a graceful smile across her lips. Jim sucked in a shaky breath and began his frantic speech.

"I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry, Joanna. I wanted us to be happy together. I just wanted…I thought that this was finally it. Something that not even I could mess up. Don’t get me wrong, I mean I did mess up a lot, you know that, but I mean really mess up. I finally had done something so right. My entire life has been a series of screw ups and cheats but the only thing that wasn’t ever either was you, Jo.” Jim’s voice broke as he spoke her name. It was the first time he had said it since McCoy had called him last week telling him to come to the hospital. That Joanna had been in an accident. 

Jim had dissolved into a mess as he grabbed the folds of Joanna’s white dress in one hand and pressed his forehead to the cool, grey siding. “Please, Joanna, I hope that you can forgive me for anything I did and for making you go out that night. I wish…I wish that never happened. It…it’s my fault, Jo. It’s my fault that you’re gone…” Jim was sobbing now, lost in his one-sided conversation.

"I knew I was going to do it about a week before this whole thing. I even asked your dad like a real gentleman, Jo. I had the ring all picked out and I was going to do it that night, once you got home…" Jim pulled the small blue box out of his pocked and opened it. He took the ring out and placed it on her finger gently.  
"I want you to have it because I can’t keep it and I could never give it to someone else. You were it Jo. You were it and it’s my fault you’re gone." Jim slid to the ground and put his head on his knees. His back rested against the stand and he continued to talk through heavy tears.

**

Spock stood near the door watching Jim as his cried. Again, he felt the need to do something, to comfort him somehow, but knowing that was impossible, he resolved to leave Jim be for the time being.

He listened as Jim let out all of his emotions. It was a vicious cycle: sadness, anger, desperation, guilt. Spock’s head snapped up as he heard him blame himself for Joanna’s death. It was illogical and out of the question. It was not his fault; it was no one’s fault except the driver who had hit her. He shook his head and wanted to make Jim see the truth of the situation, but he knew that was impossible. 

**

"Remember that time we were star-gazing, Jo? Remember how I told you it was stupid because we were always up there and it’s no different down here you're just farther away? Remember you smacked me and told me to shut up and enjoy it? I did, you know. I did enjoy it, Jo. I miss that. I'm never going to look at the stars the same way again. Because the truth is, Joanna, is that distance is what makes things beautiful. It’s because they're so far away from Earth, the stars, that you only want them and see their beauty because you can't ever reach them...The truth is, Jo..." Jim sighed and let more tears slide down his cheeks. "I miss you. I want you back. Please, just...come back..."

Jim put his head against the stand and closed his eyes. His chest hurt and his head was throbbing, but dry sobs still shook his body. "Or at least a sign...something to tell me things will be okay. That I won't feel this way forever and that I don't have sink too low..."

A gentle touch brought Jim out of his thoughts. Spock was kneeling in front of him, a concerned expression on his face and his hand on Jim's knee. Jim immediately averted his eyes; he had forgotten anyone was there to hear him.

"How much of that did you hear?" Jim said, hoping especially that he hadn't heard the last part.

"It doesn't matter," Spock said his voice soft.

"Yes it does, how much did you hear, Spock?" Jim repeated still not making any eye contact. Spock turned his gaze away and looked to the floor.

"All of it." 

"Jesus..." he cursed under his breath. "Why did you listen?"

Spock was silent. "Because I am worried."

"Worried?" Jim said, his red-rimmed eyes turning to meet Spock's. 

"Yes. Worried."

"Why are you worried? You have nothing to be worried about. Since when do you even worry," Jim snapped. Spock reeled a bit, not expecting such a venomous response.

"Since you have given me something to worry about. I am worried about you, Jim. As is Leonard." Jim remained silent for a while, processing what Spock had said. At first, he was going to deny his right to be worried, but as he thought about it, he realized that Spock was right. Jim's anger melted and he ran shaky hands through his hair before sighing.

Jim nodded. "You're right."

"Right?" 

"You should be worried..."

"Wha-"

"I mean...I need you to be worried about me," Jim said, looking up to see the silent but frantic concern of his friend. "No...Spock, nothing like that. I'm..I'm past that, I think. But, someone needs to be worried."

"I'm not sure..." Spock said, trailing off.

"You don't have to be. Just...worry."

"Mm...." Spock tried to find the logic in Jim's words. He didn't understand what he meant. He finally met Jim's gaze and realized exactly what he meant. "...fascinating..."  
Jim laughed weakly and shook his head. 

"Got it, now, Mr. Spock?" Jim said with a small smirk. 

"Yes. I believe I do, Jim," Spock nodded and took a breath. He was assured in that small but genuine smirk that Jim would be okay. He just needed someone to care what happened to him. He needed someone to care about him as much he had for Joanna. Spock rose and offered his hand out to Jim who took it gratefully.  
"Good..." Jim said standing up stiffly placing a hand on Spock's shoulder to support himself. 

"It's stopped raining, but we can still take a vehicle home if you would prefer," Spock said, watching Jim carefully.

"Are the stars out?" Jim said his voice quiet but steady. Spock hesitated to answer, not knowing the motive behind the question after what he had heard Jim say to Joanna.

"...Yes. Yes they are."

"Let's walk home, Spock."

**Author's Note:**

> Please give comments and critique (just be considerate!)


End file.
